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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27012643">you were my town now i’m in exile</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverobessed/pseuds/foreverobessed'>foreverobessed</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Criminal Minds (US TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Bisexual Spencer Reid, Brain Surgery, Bullying, Canon Divergence, Crying, Depression, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Grief, Grieving, Guilt, Hallucinations, Heavy Angst, Hospital, Hurt Spencer Reid, Major character death - Freeform, Medical Inaccuracies, Minor Survivor’s Guilt, Morgan gives him one, Past Drug Addiction, Past Drug Use, Past Romance, Platonic Relationships, Post-Episode: s08e12 Zugzwang, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Spencer Reid Whump, Spencer’s injuries are brushed over, minor fluff, past bullying, s08e13 Magnus Opus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:08:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,614</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27012643</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverobessed/pseuds/foreverobessed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer is haunted by what could’ve been done for Maeve.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aaron Hotchner &amp; Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan &amp; Spencer Reid, Maeve Donovan/Spencer Reid, Spencer Reid &amp; The BAU Team</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>you were my town now i’m in exile</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>just watched Maeve’s death SUPER depressing cried :)) I’m definitely probably gonna do a fix-it but who knows. Hope y’all enjoy !!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Spencer heard the clacking of JJ’s and Garcia’s heels as they went to work. He knew Garcia had dropped off another gift basket, he opened the door to look at it to notice one of the gift baskets were missing, one of his neighbors probably stole another one. He had tuned out JJ’s and Garcia’s conversation, not wanting to hear them talk about him, talk about </span>
  <em>
    <span>her. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>If he closed his eyes he could see her blue eyes, looking at him with curiosity and compassion. It was the first time they looked at each other, met eyes, he never wanted to look away. Those short few minutes they had together </span>
  <em>
    <span>(if you could call it that), </span>
  </em>
  <span>with them actually looking at each other, it was amazing. Them meeting for the first time should’ve been on their own terms, it should’ve been with him saying </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I love you, Maeve-“</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He squeezed his eyes shut as the loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>bang! </span>
  </em>
  <span>of a gunshot filled his head, reminding him of Maeve’s blood getting on his shoes- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He quickly reached down and picked up the basket, shutting the door behind him. He put the basket on the table in front of his couch. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. Didn’t want to think about everything they had missed out on. His hand went to the crook of his inner elbow, his fingers digging in at the old track marks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes he’d open his eyes and see Maeve smiling at him, her smile was breathtaking and dreamlike. So unreachable, barely there. He’d settle into her arms though, let her card her fingers through his hair and murmur sweet things about a future they’d never get to have. A future where they got married, bought a house, had some kids. He’d try to block out the thoughts of Diane when he was with her. Diane whispered to him, it made his head pound. Sometimes Maeve would ask him to read to her and he would; quoting philosophers and old books. She’d settle herself in between his legs with her head on his chest and he’d tangle his fingers into her hair. It hurt him to see her, tears would sting his eyes and his throat burned, but it was better than nothing. He never even got to touch her..</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ever since he had got home; stumbling and in shock and with Morgan’s steadying hand on the small of his back he had been craving. Once he was finally alone in his apartment, he had cried. He had clutched his pillow and buried his head in it, with his other hand clutched on the letter he had found in the building. It was one addressed to him that Maeve had never sent, once his mind had quickly processed the words written to him he had shoved it in his pocket, not wanting anyone else to see. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It brought a small smile to his lips when his fingers traced the words she had written; telling him that they would make blindfolds fun again. He tucked the letter back in the envelope when he laid down to try to go to bed. He couldn’t sleep; couldn’t sleep for two weeks now. He got a couple hours in when exhaustion overtook him but it was never for long. He always woke up with her name on his lips and the images of blood pooled around her, his shoes accidentally getting in the blood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he had gotten home he went to scrub the blood off, and within a few moments he realized he had her blood on his hands - literally. He had already known her death was his fault, he should’ve kissed Diane harder, should’ve made it more convincing. He sat there like an idiot, just letting her kiss him and trying to pretend it wasn’t Diane kissing him but Maeve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he got in the shower and scrubbed himself down, out of necessity and not the actual routine of taking a shower - he tried not to think of anything. He recited different sequences of numbers, trying to focus on anything but looking down at himself. He hated himself at the moment, if he looked down he was scared he’d end up hurting himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He got out of the shower and dried off quickly, picking out random lounge clothes. He didn’t do much except try to sleep and hug letters or the book Maeve gave him. Maeve’s parents - he had met them at the funeral - gave him a small, sad smile when he introduced himself. They told him Maeve had mentioned a Doctor she had started talking to about his headaches. They had no idea that they were more involved than that, but that was okay with him. He didn’t want them to pity him, so he kept his mouth shut and just said they were very close friends and he comforted her throughout the months with her in hiding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer dug into the crook of his elbow until it was red with blood. He didn’t mind it, he just cleaned the small cut out and put a bandaid over it, rolling his sleeves over it. Maybe it was the exhaustion and the grief that got to him in the end, but he felt petite fingers tangle themself into the naps of his neck, playing with his hair. He turned his neck to the side to meet the soft blue eyes of Maeve Donovan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tears immediately began to well up in his eyes, he rubbed his eyes but she was still there. Maeve gave him a soft smile, “It’s not your fault, Spencer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He drank into the sight of her, drunk on the fact that he could see her. In the back of his head he knew she wasn’t real, knew this was just the exhaustion taking over. “Yes it is. I-I should’ve played the role better, I could’ve gotten you out of </span>
  <em>
    <span>there.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Maeve cupped his cheek, he closed his eyes and tilted into her soft touch, inhaling sharply. He felt tears start to run down his face and she brushed them away. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault but hers, there wasn’t anything that you could’ve done. You did your best. I don’t blame you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I blame myself.” The tears stung his eyes, his throat was already sore from softly crying into his pillow when he tried to sleep. He kept his eyes closed, enjoying the touch of her skin against his. “You deserve to live, Maeve. Not me, I’ve already escaped death too many times.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t love you. Sorry.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Those were some of his last words to her. He never even told her- that he loved her. “I love you, Maeve. So much it hurts.. I would kill myself to be with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maeve’s soft chuckling brought him to open his eyes. His vision was blurry from the tears coming out of his eyes, but she had a smile on her angelic face, “I knew you loved me, Spence. You told me you’d kill your self to be with me, I knew. I knew.”  He closed his eyes again, just wanting to enjoy her touch. He heard her take a sharp inhale, a hiss in pain. His eyes opened immediately and there was a hole in her head, the size of a bullet. Suddenly, she had the look of Maeve before she died. She looked tired, and her hair was slightly messy. </span>
  <em>
    <span>(Not that that mattered to him - when he laid his eyes on her, he was right. She was the most beautiful girl in the world).</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He gasped and wrenched himself from her grasp, watching the blood pour out of her head. Gone, was the kind Maeve. She had the voice of Diane, Alexa Lisbon, and Harper Hillman. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You killed me!” She hissed at him, standing up from the couch where he was trying to sink into it. The blood continued to run down her head, onto her clothing. It was stained red and so was the carpet under her feet. “It was kind of cute though…” She said in a mocking tone, reminding him of the time in high school where once Spencer had found out the deception - the whole football team was there and he was stripped naked and the girls were mocking him for thinking he even thought he had a chance with them. “In a tragic sort of way, but you couldn’t save me!” She jabbed a finger in his chest, “Genius Spencer Reid, IQ of 187, reads 20,000 words per minute, numerous degrees, couldn’t save me!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” Spencer said in a shaky voice, trying to control his breathing and crying. It was his fault, he couldn’t save her! He had saved Lila from her stalker, why not Maeve? He couldn’t control his breathing but he tried - tried to focus on things around the room but he was ultimately focused on Maeve shouting at him with a hole in her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His breathing was fast, picking up at each moment. He went to stand up, to get away from Maeve but his legs gave out. He hit his head on the way down, and suddenly everything went black. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he came back to it, Spencer was laying on his stomach in his living room. He had hit the wooden table in front of his couch, but it was hard to process what had happened. He got up on his elbows and pushed himself up, laying against the couch. He blearily reached his hands to his head, moaning slightly when he felt blood. He had touched blood enough to know what it was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reached out for his phone, he didn't want to go to the hospital but he didn’t want to call the team either. He had already bothered them enough, had taken up enough of their time. Reid knew that he most likely only had a concussion and a head cut, but he didn’t have the energy to get himself up. He was exhausted and tired. He reached for his hand and typed in 911 with bloody fingers. He felt dizzy and he wanted to throw up. He didn’t know if he could patch himself up if he wanted to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“911, what is your emergency?” The operator asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hit my head and blacked out for a moment. It’s probably just something minor-“ His leg’s started to go numb, his head was pounding for some reason. “I think I’m having a brain bleed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, sir? An ambulance is on its way to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reid tried to say more but his mouth wouldn’t cooperate. All that was coming out was gibberish. Suddenly he was back in that ambulance trying to talk when he had been poisoned by anthrax. He hung up, his brain running the possibilities of a brain injury. It was probably just some minor brain hemorrhage - his finger hovered over Garcia’s contact but he shoved his phone in his pocket and despite the numbness in his legs and him feeling completely lightheaded he managed to get over to his satchel that was on one of the chairs that he used to play chess. He slid his FBI badge and wallet in his pocket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His head was pounding and his hands started to shake, he was out of it and his vision was getting blurry. Sooner than he knows it he hears his door open and he’s loaded onto a stretcher. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your name, sir?” One of the paramedics asked. There was two of them, a male and a female. When he looked over to the female paramedic his breath caught in his throat. She looked like Maeve. This girl’s hair was lighter and her face was rounder but the eyes were damning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“S-Spencer R-Reid.” He managed to stutter out, he patted his pocket on his badge and the male paramedic got the hint, pulling out a badge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doctor Spencer Reid, with the FBI.” The paramedic said with surprise evident in his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer tried to focus on their voices he really did, but his vision was getting fuzzy and black. He soon faded into blissful nothingness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The team was on the plane, back to Quantico after they just finished their case. Hotch was skimming through a file when his phone rang, Rossi was sitting right next to him and lifted his head slightly when he answered it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hotchner,” He said into the phone, not bothering to look at the number. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is Aaron Hotchner, yes?” Hotch hummed an affirmative. “You’re listed as Doctor Spencer Reid’s medical proxy and we just wanted to let you know that he came in with a slight brain hemorrhage-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hotch’s brain paused, trying to catch up. He hadn’t seen Reid since Maeve’s death, he knocked on his apartment to try to check up on him but he never answered and he called him a few times. The last time he heard Reid’s voice was to tell Hotch that he was taking some time off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he alright?” Hotch asked, cutting the feminine voice off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was just a mild bleed, he’s in surgery right now.” The feminine voice confirmed. She listed off the hospital Reid was at too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hotch noticed she didn’t confirm nor deny that he was alright, deflecting. “Okay. Thank you for calling me.” He hung up the phone and sighed sharply. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” Morgan’s voice brought him out of his thoughts and Aaron’s head snapped up to meet Morgan’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re going to the hospital when we land, Reid’s in surgery.” Hotch said vaguely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” JJ asked, confusion and worry evident in her face and voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what happened, Reid was unconscious when they brought him in. We’ll just have to see what happened for ourselves.” Hotch was confused as the rest of them, did Reid hurt himself on purpose? He wouldn’t do that.. would he?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Spencer’s eyes blearily opened, he heard the beeping of the heart machine first. If the beeping of machines wasn’t enough the smell of the hospital hit him. He opened his eyes, blinking to adjust to the lights. Once his eyes adjusted to the lights he noticed the team sitting in the chairs. He held off inhaling sharply and closed his eyes, hoping to fake sleep. He didn’t call them, why were they here? He didn’t want them to worry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Pretty Boy. You know that’s not gonna work on us.” Morgan said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer didn’t respond though, like he didn’t respond to their phone calls or their knocks on his doors or when Morgan asked him how he was doing. He just laid still, trying his best to keep his breathing even. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morgan poked lightly at his abdomen, he had hit it on the way down he assumed and he hissed out and his eyes were wide open. “Do you at least have Jello?” He murmured out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morgan flashed him a smile, it was slightly dimmed by the worry for Spencer but a smile nonetheless. He hands the kid a container of it and a plastic spoon. Spencer can’t really remember the last time he ate or drank for that matter, but the IV in his arm is probably already helping him already. He looks at the container for a moment, feeling dull anger throb in him. He didn’t really think about her until it was in his grasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I always hated hospitals.” Maeve murmured over the phone, her voice soft, “There was always something about them that just irked me. What about you? In your line of work you must go to some a lot.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Spencer laughed lightly over the phone, clutching it to his ear. His eyes swerved around where he was at in the pay phone booth, “Yeah, a couple of times. I’ve always liked their Jello though.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maeve laughed over the phone, it made his stomach squirm, made him feel nauseous. Spencer never really understood the term “butterflies in your stomach” but he understood it now, “I’ve never had it. I’ll definitely have to try it.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked plainly at the container, turning it in his fingers. He dropped the container on the ground of the sterile hospital floor, a gentle thud as it fell. He didn’t meet anyone’s eyes as they watched him disregard the food - not Morgan’s, Alex’s, Garcia’s, Rossi’s, JJ’s, or Hotch’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard Morgan’s little sharp inhale of breath. He dropped the spoon with a soft clatter. He closed his eyes and leaned back into the pillows, reciting random passages from his favorite books in his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t love you. Sorry.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Diane’s hand going underneath his button up shirt, her nails digging into his ribs was going to haunt him for the rest of his life. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We’re going to make blindfolds fun again.” Maeve said over the phone, “No one ever deserves that to happen to them, least of all you. Once you and I meet - everything’s going to fall into place.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer remembered one time, he woke up craving and drove three hours out to a pay phone and reached it at three am. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you.. I don’t even know why I called I’m sorry it’s not Sunday-“</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Spencer.” Maeve interrupted, her voice slightly scratchy from just waking up, “You wouldn’t just call me and it not be important at three in the morning. Talk to me.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So talk he did. He talked about Hankle, his past drug addiction, he talked about what it was like in a Las Vegas public school, talked about the goal post incident, talked about how his first kiss was a boy, and how he struggled with his sexuality growing up.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You know all of this doesn’t make me feel any different about you,” Maeve said, she had stayed quiet and let him talk. He was used to people interrupting him, cutting him off, saying “Sorry for asking,” and poking him and saying how lifelike he was. “You’re still the same Doctor Spencer Reid I know. I-I care about you, Spencer. No one deserves those things to happen to them but it doesn’t make you any different from you. The fact that you’re bisexual doesn’t mater to me. You’re.. you’re perfect.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Spencer smiled, he could feel the butterflies in his tummy again, “Y-You are too, Maeve. I know I’ve never seen your face but… you’re already the most beautiful girl in the world to me.” The normal, awkward, bumbling Spencer Reid would never say that directly to her without him going over every possibility, but he was tired. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He heard Maeve’s slight intake of breath, he liked to imagine she was smiling. “I can’t wait to meet you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Spence.” JJ’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, “What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opened his eyes to meet the worried glances of his team, he cleared his throat. “I’m fine, really. I stumbled and fell and hit my head on the corner of my table in front of the living room. I lost consciousness for I think only a few seconds so I decided to call 911. I thought it was just a concussion, turned out to be a brain bleed. End of the story.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex’s lips were pulled into a worried frown, “So you didn’t do this on purpose-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On purpose?” Reid exclaimed, “If I wanted to kill myself, I wouldn’t have called 911. Please just.. go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Reid.” Hotch’s stern voice made Spencer bring his eyes up to meet Hotch’s, “You have to talk about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t talk about Haley.” Reid’s voice was biting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hotch’s expression remained unchanged however. Rossi spoke up, “Reid you hurt yourself. Whether it was on purpose or not you at least need to talk about it-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok! Let’s talk about it.” Spender’s voice was loud, “I’ve been calculating ever since Maeve’s death that we had a 25.3% chance to save her. We’ve faced worse odds than that and won! Do you remember the blindfold in the package?” His eyes met each of his teammates’ eyes, “It was because when I was younger I had a crush on this girl, she told me I was cute, but she told me that she’d only meet me if I had a blindfold on. So I did that and she took off my shirt and I heard most of the senior class laughing at me.” Spencer’s tone was bitter, “So Maeve told me we’d make blindfolds fun again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked at all of his teammate’s faces, not realizing he was shaking and his breathing was fast, “There! I talked! Now, leave me alone!” When Morgan stood up from his chair and wrapped his arms around Spencer he fought the hold immediately, trying to get out of his grasp. Morgan didn’t budge however. Spencer went limp and his throat was burning. He didn’t notice he was sobbing, until Alex came up and wiped away his tears, her eyes were filled with unshed tears too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It's going to be alright, kid.” Rossi said from far off, Reid had squeezed his eyes shut now, trying to stop crying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to be just fine, Spence.” JJ murmured, her hands interlacing with his. He felt Morgan scoot over him over so Morgan could sit on the hospital bed with him, Spencer’s fingers were clenched into his shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garcia’s fingers carded through his hair, “We’re here for you, okay, Boy Wonder?” He knew Garcia was itching to hug him, but he had a tight grasp on Morgan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hotch’s hand brushed over his shoulder, “Anything you need we’re going to get it for you, okay? Anything you need.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer’s breathing calmed down eventually and he fell asleep, surrounded by his family and with Morgan still hugging him. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>LOOK IK THE BRAIN SURGERY WAS V SKIPPED OVER but I didn’t really want to go into too much detail bc I just didn’t want to. Look I hoped y’all enjoyed !! I’m sure there’s some medical inaccuracies so I’m sorry for that. Have a good day drink lots of water!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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